Of the Hatsuse,
of its swift past, I know nothing—
yet at this meeting,
this glad crossing of today,
even my body flows away

Meaning

Of the swift past of the Hatsuse I know nothing—yet at this glad meeting today, my tears run, and my very body seems to flow away with them.

Commentary

Part One: Tamakazura

　This is her answer to Ukon. Weeping, we are told, she was lovely to look at. Ukon marveled that she had grown so beautiful with nothing rough or countrified about her, and was glad in her heart for the nurse's rearing. Where her mother Yugao had been all youth and ease, soft and yielding, this lady had dignity, and her bearing was accomplished enough to make one feel one's own shortcomings. Afterward, hearing how the Minister of the Center had brought all his many children up to their places in the world, she began, obscure as she was, to hope. They asked after each other's lodgings before parting; Ukon's house was near the Rokujo estate, and not far from the Ninth Ward either.

　"Hatsuse-gawa" takes up the "old river" of Ukon's poem. "Hayaku" plays on the swiftness of the current and on long ago, and belongs to the river's imagery. Taken from the capital at four, she had no means of knowing her mother or her own parentage. "Au se" is an occasion of meeting, playing on "se," a shallow crossing. "Even my body flows away" is: not tears alone but my very self seems to be carried off—again in the river's train of words. Piling up the language of the river, the poem holds together the pain of years passed in ignorance and the joy of this meeting.

Author

Murasaki Shikibu

Source

Genji Monogatari

Other

Of the Hatsuse, of its swift past, I know nothing— yet at this meeting, this glad crossing of today, even my body flows away

Of the Hatsuse,
of its swift past, I know nothing—
yet at this meeting,
this glad crossing of today,
even my body flows away